All Gussied Up for Pizza Hut

The farmer and I had a busy weekend. Friday night, I dropped Peanut off for the weekend with my step-mom so  she could squeeze on her all weekend and I could have a little time off. The farmer and I had planned on having a date night, but his uncle wanted to take the whole family out for pizza. I rarely pass up free pizza, so we just decided to move our date night to Saturday night. However, I dressed up anyway because 1) sometimes it just feels good to do that when you’re a stay-at-home mom and 2) the farmer hardly ever gets to look at me when I’m looking my best (or trying to, that is). So, I got to the farm where he was waiting to  hop in the car and he gave me lots of compliments. The End.

Actually, the end starts when we got to Pizza Hut and they sat all of us in a big room with a TV that was playing the Cardinals game. Someone could have come in there with a gun and shot up the place, and none of the guys would have been the wiser. I’m pretty sure I shot myself in the face a few times with my “hand” gun for good measure.

After we left, the farmer and I went through the McDonald’s drive through for a little ice cream cone and made our way back to the farm where we watched Inception. That movie turned my brain to mush and I slept until almost 9:30 the next morning. I’m a morning person, usually, so that was like into the afternoon for me. (I actually slept most of the day after that, too. So, it was a very unproductive Saturday. I like to think I had just worn myself to the point of exhaustion. Yeah, we’ll say that.)

I did help the farmer milk that evening and then we hopped in our vehicles and headed back to the city to spend the rest of the weekend there. The farmer usually has a few guys that live around there do everything on Sundays, so Peanut and I usually have him all to ourselves on Sundays. Saturday evening, we went to Olive Garden and got our meal for free! We had just been sitting there talking and hadn’t realized how much time had gone by before the manager came up and told us that the meal was on him tonight. That made it totally worth not getting to eat til 10:00.

Sunday morning, I got up early and cleaned house. (The contract on our house up here in the city fell through, so it’s back to making sure the house is show ready at any given moment.) Then, we did our normal Sunday morning routine. Go to Panera for breakfast and then head to church. Peanut was so happy to see us. (Actually, she totally ignored me and went straight for her daddy. I’m used to feeling like chopped liver when he’s around, though. As a matter of fact, everyone but him is chopped liver.)

After church, we left to go to my mom’s house for lunch. (Don’t worry! The pictures are going to start right about now.) The farmer’s birthday was Friday and she was making him one of his favorites. He requested this:

It’s her Green Chile Chicken Enchiladas and it also happens to be one of my favorites, too. My mom’s an excellent cook! And she’s actually going to be a guest blogger later this week and share this recipe, step-by-step, with you. (It will not be under the healthy eating category, however. My mom’s all about comfort food.) They are incredibly delicious and we all stand around the kitchen salivating. Except for my sister, Bailey, who hates green chile sauce. So, my mom made her her own enchiladas with queso blanco. She spoils us like that.

This is what my mom’s kitchen looks like when we have a family gathering. That tall guy there is Kevin, my mom’s man and his daughter, Carissa, is standing on the other side of her. The farmer is on the other side of Jason, my brother-in-law, and the girl in the maroon shirt is Bailey. My mom’s kitchen is small, but we all manage to jam pack ourselves in there and surprisingly enough, she never shooes us out. Never has. Food has always been how my mom shows love and there’s a lot of love in that kitchen. From a little girl all the way to my senior year in high school, I parked myself at that table every time Mom was in the kitchen and talked her ear off and those are some of the best memories I have.

The farmer was chopping up the vegetables for the pico de gallo I was supposed to be making. I chopped a few, but I hate chopping and it was imperative that pictures be taken. I don’t really have to twist his arm, though. He kinda likes to cook. He also likes to be better and faster than me at stuff. So, I oblige him and use it to my advantage a lot of times. Manipulation? Nah. I just know what works. That and I fall all over myself praising him on what a good chopper he is.

My mom loves to decorate. When we walked in, she had created a nice little ambience with her twinkle lit harvest arrangement and Michael Buble playing on the cd player. (My picture kind of makes the arrangement look like a jumbled up mess, but it didn’t look like that. It was very cute. I honestly don’t know what happened.) She goes to great lengths to make the atmosphere as nice as she can.

I’ve not introduced you to this little guy yet. This is my baby brother, Landon. He’ll be 4 at the end of November.

He’s a funny little rugrat and a lot of what comes out of his mouth cracks me up. Way too smart for his own good. He and Peanut get along really well aside from a few sibling-like squabbles. But, that’s kind of what they’re growing up as, so what can you expect? He’s very protective of her and it’s sweet.

I also have another little brother, Justin. He lives in Montana, but we get to see him all summer long when he comes to stay with my dad and step-mom. Landon is my mom’s and Justin is my dad’s. Justin is a goober, but that’s why I love him. He understands my sense of humor because he shares it. He’ll be 9 in December.

Speaking of sweet…

Mom made Pina Colada Pie for dessert with little candied orange slices on top. It was yummy! Needless to say, it was a good weekend.

The Dairymaid

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3 thoughts on “All Gussied Up for Pizza Hut

  1. You have a beautiful family, and a precious and lovely mama ❤ I enjoyed reading your blogs darlin, and the sneak peek into your fun life. I look forward to more from "the farmer's wife"

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